The Journey To Avallone
by illyria-pffyffin
Summary: Legolas was determined to take Gimli to Eressea, though they knew not if the Dwarf would be welcome there. Little did they know that their journey would be fraught with peril.
1. Trip to Avallone 1

Author's Note:  Thanks to Arathlithiel for going over this story even though Legolas is not exactly her favorite Lord of The Rings character J  I wrote this shortly after I read Silmarillion, only a few days after I finished Lord of The Rings.  As I am not as steeped in Tolkien-lore as a lot of his ardent fans out there, I apologize if I had a lot of the facts wrong in this story. 

THE JOURNEY TO AVALLONE 

The Lady in Black was there by the pier.  Her son and daughters were beside her, as fair and as tall as their mother, their faces as grave and majestic as their father's.  The hosts from Rohan and Ithilien were also there, kindred of the late King Eomer and Prince Faramir.  A ship, grey and sleek, was moored to the quay.  Its prow was carved in the likeness of a swan.  A small cabin stood in its middle.  Its masts were tall and well-wrought, its sails white with a very strange emblem on it.  An axe with an arrow across it, in front of a great mallorn tree studded with jewels.  For it was the ship of the Elf Legolas, made together with his closest and dearest friend, Gimli son of Gloin, the Dwarf.  

       "This is heavy parting indeed," said the Lady.  "Because it is the end not only of the company of dear friends, but also of shared memories.  And I shall have to bear all of them alone now, all the pain and sorrow, and the joy and the mirth.  And it is such a heavy undertaking.  Woe is greatest on me this day."

       The Elf standing before her, with his grey-green robe billowing in the wind, looked at her sorrowfully.  "If there were ways I could succour the emptiness in your heart, Lady Arwen," he said,  "I would.  But we both know such is a fruitless endeavour indeed, when my heart is also empty and has naught to offer but a hollow sympathy.  Long have I pondered on this decision, and I have forestalled it many times, lingering in the hope that I might weary of the call of The Sea.  But it proved futile, Lady Arwen.  No one in our kindred can wholly defy The Sea, save the mightiest ones." And he bowed slightly.

       Diamond-like tears rolled on Arwen's face, hidden, and yet shining through the thin black veil that she wore since the day of the death of her husband, Aragorn son of Arathorn, The King Elessar, well nigh a year ago.  "Mighty I am not, Legolas," she said.  "Yet I have chosen.  And by that choice I stood though it be my doom.  A doom even more foreshadowed by this sundering of our hearts."

       Beside Legolas stood a stout dwarf with reddish brown beard.  He looked up at Arwen's face and said, "Don't worry about the memories, Lady Arwen.  For we shall keep them also with us.  They shall never perish.  We might not sit together and talk of the days gone past.  But they are there with us nevertheless, and as long as you remember them, and I remember them, we are never far from each other."

       Arwen looked at him and her eyes were blurred by more tears.  "Gimli, Gimli, my dear friend," she said reaching out a white hand to Gimli's shoulder.  "My heart ached the more for you.  That Legolas felt The Summon, I shall not question that.  But you, my friend, how can you leave without the certainty of a destination?"

       "We have our destination, my Lady," said Gimli.  "The shores of Avallone."

       Arwen looked at Legolas.  "They shall not understand this.  An Elf they will gladly welcome, but a dwarf…even one as valiant and loyal as Gimli."

       "I have no other place to go, my Lady," Gimli spoke.  "Save where Legolas goes."

       "If they turn Gimli away," said Legolas, "I shall leave too.  Even if it means that I shall perish utterly."

       "And there is someone I have to meet again ere death takes me," said Gimli wistfully.  "The Lady of Lothlorien, whose fair face I want to see again for the last time."

       Arwen wept softly while her children stood beside her, mute and helpless to ease her sorrow.  

       "Farewell, my Lady," said Legolas.  "May Gondor thrive and wax in glory forever."

       "Farewell, brave Lady," said Gimli.  His eyes were glittering with tears.  Without another word he turned and walked to the grey ship.

       "Namariè," said Arwen, her voice barely audible in the whispering breeze.  

       Legolas bowed with his hand on his breast, and then he too walked toward the ship.  

       The hithlain rope was summoned from its coil in the harbour into the ship with a command from Legolas.  The ship began to move, its sails full of wind.  Legolas was at the helm, steering the ship into the fast current of the Anduin.  Gimli sat in the cabin.

       And so the last members of the Fellowship of the Ring left Middle-earth, one summoned by the irresistible call of The Sea, the other by the strangest love yet, a Dwarf's for an Elf.

       "You are crying, Gimli?" called Legolas.

       Gimli sniffed, "What stupid question!  A dwarf cries!  It was the breeze!  This is going to be my most arduous journey yet.  Even the wind is against me."

       "It is against me too," whispered Legolas as he ran his fair hand over his eyes and wiped away his tears.  


	2. Trip to Avallone 2

The arrow flew in a flash from Legolas's bow, pulling with it a hithlain rope.  It struck a big silver fish and went clear through its body.  The fish made a last, desperate struggle, but the rope was already pulled into the ship.  Soon it was lying on the deck of the grey elven ship, with Gimli half dancing near it.  

       "Finally, some real food!" he said.  "I am becoming horribly tired of that dreadful lembas you made me eat everyday."

       Legolas looked at the fish with a mingled feeling of disgust and doubt.  "What shall we do with it?"

       "Do?  Many things, my friend.  Come, let me show you how to do it," said Gimli, carrying the dead fish on his shoulder.  They went into the cabin where Gimli lit fire to the brazier where they prepared their simple meals.

       "Oh, I forget," said Gimli.  "Why don't you go and clean the fish while I tend to the fire.  It needs a little bit of urging before it can roast a fish nice and…"

       "Clean the fish?" said Legolas frowning.

       "Yes.  Open it up, remove its innards, slice away the meat…"

       "How do I do it?" said Legolas.

       "How do you do it?" Gimli looked at Legolas with impatient eyes.  It seemed that he could hardly believe Legolas the Wood-elf knew nothing about fish cleaning.  "With a knife of course."

       "My knife?" said Legolas.  

       "No, with Narsil, the sword of Isildur," growled Gimli, his eyes smouldering.   "What is the matter with you!  Have you never have fish before?"

       "Well, we have fish in Greenwood.  But I have never had to clean them up.  They are always laid on the table, ready to be feasted on.  It was never my duty to see to the preparation," said Legolas.

       "Listen, Master Elf-prince," said Gimli.  "This is going to be your first lesson on fish.  They don't jump from the waters to the table and cook themselves in the process.  They have to be cleaned, washed and cooked properly before you can feast on them."

       "Well, if you know so much about fish cleaning, I suggest that you do it then, Gimli," said Legolas, smiling.  

       "Oh, no, no, Master Elf," said Gimli, wagging a fat, stubby finger.  "You learn by doing.  Go and clean that fish."

       "I shall never be able to eat it later," muttered Legolas darkly.  

       "Then all the more reason why you should do it.  I shall have all the fish to myself," said Gimli, handing the fish to Legolas and returning to the fire which was starting to dwindle in their quarrel.

       Soon there came the scent of roasting fish from the cabin.  Beside the roast, Gimli had also prepared fish stew, with some dried herbs that Legolas kept in the galley.  The two friends sat down to dinner, Gimli with the roast fish and stew, Legolas with dried fruits, nuts and several wafers of lembas.

       "We have travelled for well nigh two months now, Legolas," said Gimli.  "We have followed the stars faithfully.  Yet there is still no sign of the Blessed Realm."

       Legolas looked at his friend thoughtfully.  "It is said that the path there will be shown to all homecoming Elves and so far I felt that we had taken the right course.  The Summons is getting stronger.  Had we strayed, I would be sure to know it.  But it is said in the lore of the Elves that the Valar had made the path full of treachery, to keep out those who are not allowed in the Undying Land."

       Gimli sat silent for a while.  He had finished eating and was puffing pensively on his pipe.  "Suppose there are in the ship some who don't deserve to be let in, mortals," he said.  "Do you think they will let you find the shores of Avallone then?"

       "But it is said that Frodo and Bilbo, and Sam even, were taken to the Blessed Realm," said Legolas, a fierce hope in his eyes.  "Surely it means that it is your deeds and valour that count, not immortality alone."

       "I hope so, my good Elf," said Gimli.  "I hope so."

       "The worst that can happen," said Legolas more cheerfully, "is that instead of finding the Swan haven, we will go around and return to Middle Earth.  I do not think there is aught we should fear."


	3. Trip to Avallone 3

The wind swirled furiously, shrieking in the darkness, amid the roar of thunder.  The waves rose and fell, and fought and wrestled viciously, tossing the grey elven ship hither and thither.  The ship, looking so helpless and forlorn, creaked under the heavy blows of the angry sea, its masts swaying and bending in the raging wind.  Rain fell in thick, heavy sheets, lashing the deck and flooding the cabin of the ship.  On the helm was Legolas, fighting futilely to control the ship.  Gimli was tied with a hithlain rope to a mast, lest he slid and fell into the black, foaming water.  The dwarf was busy securing everything on deck, bundling them up, tying them down.  He slipped and fell and was tossed into the railing so many times, grumbling and complaining.

       "And I have to travel with a Wood-elf!" he said aloud.  "One who has never seen the sea ere he nearly turned 3000 years old.  What folly!  Folly!"

       "So would you like to take the helm then, Gimli!" shouted Legolas above the roaring gale.  "You would steer it better, perhaps.  Take it to a safe haven."

       "Now you are certainly losing your mind, Legolas," said Gimli.  He slid on the deck and hit the railing with a great thud for the umpteenth time.  "I belong in the bowels of the earth.  Mind you, it is firm there and it never sways and wriggles like this."

       "Then go back to your cavern then.  Your protestations will do us no good here!"

       "Neither will your skill at the helm!" 

       What Legolas said in return was drowned in a huge roar of the waves.  A dark curtain of black water rose above the ship and seemed to hang there for eternity, then suddenly it crashed fiercely on the deck.  The ship tilted and was engulfed in water.  But so light was the wood that it was made of, and so perfect was its symmetry and balance that the ship quickly bounced back to the surface of the restless sea like a cork in a tub of water.  

       "Gimli!" shouted Legolas, forsaking the helm and looking frantically for his friend.  "Gimli!"

       He found the hithlain rope still attached to the mast, but at its end Gimli was no more.  "Gimli!" cried Legolas.

       Then his keen eyes saw the gleam of Gimli's hauberk in the water.  Legolas snatched his bow and quiver from the cabin wall and coiled a rope around his slender waist.  Then he jumped swiftly into the roiling water.

       He swam with difficulty towards Gimli.  The waves kept pushing his light elven body away from the dwarf, who was sinking into the deep.  Legolas kicked his long legs and was spurted along towards the dwarf.  He gripped Gimli's hand and pulled him up to the surface.  Legolas could see his grey ship getting ever smaller in the distance and he wondered whether he had taken enough rope.  He slung a length of rope under Gimli's arms and knotted it to the rope around his waist.  Then he tied an end of the hithlain rope to an arrow and shot.

       The arrow pierced the walls of the rain, heedless of the violent wind, straight at the grey ship.  The rope followed it and soon it grew taut and tugged at Legolas's body.  With one hand holding Gimli, Legolas inched his way along the rope to his ship.  The waves tossed him about, but the rope held fast.  Finally Legolas reached his ship, hurled against its side by the merciless sea.  He climbed up slowly, winding the rope in an ever thicker coil around his wrist, dragging Gimli in the other hand.  The rope, though secure, was wet and slippery, and Legolas fell repeatedly into the sea.  But his hand gripped the railing at last and with a final great heave he pulled himself up and tumbled with Gimli on to the deck.  

       The fall shook Gimli to consciousness.  He blinked in the rain and saw Legolas bending over him in the light of lightning.  "What happened?" he croaked.

       "Gimli!" cried Legolas happily.  "You are unhurt!  Oh, for a while there I thought all hopes have vanished!"

       The dwarf sat up and looked at the rope that bound him to Legolas, and the other length that coiled around the Elf's wrist and was attached to an arrow in the cabin wall.  He knew then what had happened.  He looked briefly at the Elf's happy face.

       "Well," he said uneasily.  "What are you doing here, anyway?  Get you to the helm!  Mind you, the storm is not over yet!"

       "Yes, Master Dwarf," laughed Legolas.  "Neither are we."


	4. Trip to Avallone 4

Morning was blue yet warm.  The grey elven ship sat in the calm, almost flat sea, under a canopy of thin, high clouds, tinged with the rosy and violet hues of daybreak.  Its passengers were having breakfast outside the tiny cabin.  Legolas was eating a piece of dried fish with a resigned look on his face.  He had finally agreed to eat fish after finding out that his store of fruits and nuts was nearly depleted.  Although he found the taste quite agreeable and even delicious sometimes, he hadn't entirely gotten over his initial revulsion after preparing a fish for the first time.  And that was two months ago.  

They had been out in the sea for nearly four months.  Many storms they had survived.  But it seemed that they did not get any closer to the Undying Land.  Legolas felt still the tug of the Blessed Realm, an urge so unshakable that he never even dreamed of abandoning his seemingly fruitless quest.  But looking at Gimli sitting across from him, drawing contentedly on his pipe, Legolas felt the beginning of doubts.  

"What is it, Master Legolas?" said Gimli.  "You look troubled."

"It is this journey, Gimli," said Legolas.  "Four months have passed and we are no nearer to Avallone than the day we set out.  I feel something is amiss.  We must have done something wrong."

"Well, nothing in the lore is said about how long it takes to travel to the Blessed realm," said Gimli.  "The ships of the older days were mightier than ours, so it might seem that they traversed the sea with greater speed.  Especially after the sundering of the West from the East; who knows full well what we are to behold beyond the sea?  We do not know if we have reached the end of the eastern waters yet.  Maybe in our small way, we are making progress nevertheless.  So have a heart, Legolas.  Do not despair."

Legolas looked at his friend, a smile breaking on his fair lips.  

"What?" demanded Gimli.  "I do not think I like that smile."

"I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have your company," said the Elf.  "It would have been a cheerless, dreadful journey without you."

Gimli growled gruffly.  "Well, someone has to keep an eye on you, Master Elf, lest you stray into trouble."

Legolas laughed.  "A good job you have done, Gimli, dragging me into the water to save you.  You and that heavy mail shirt of yours.  My hands were numb for hours afterwards."

"Well, if it were not for me, Legolas," countered Gimli, "you would have starved when your squirrel food ran out."

       But just then, Legolas heard a faint sound in the distance.  His keen elvish ears pricked up as he stood up suddenly and stood leaning on the railing.

       "What is it?" demanded Gimli.  He squinted but could see nothing.  His ears only heard the creaking of the ship's timber.  

       "A song!  Can you not hear it?" said Legolas.  He ran up to the stern and, shading his eyes to see better, looked beyond the water.  "It comes from there!"

       He leapt behind the helm and turned the ship to the east.  "Unfurl all the sails, Gimli.  We must haste!"

       "What song?" said Gimli.  "I hear nothing."

       "Believe me, Master Dwarf," Legolas laughed.  "A song there is, and a beautiful one too.  Speed we must have.  Hurry!"

       Gimli scrambled along the deck, tugging at ropes.  Presently, an impatient Legolas left the helm unmanned and scuttled up the masts, releasing white sails from the tall pinnacles, singing joyously in Elvish.  It struck Gimli that he had never seen Legolas so happy.

       "Where are we going?" asked Gimli.  

But Legolas seemed not to hear him and instead the Elf sang as he steered the ship ever eastward.  A small dot appeared in the horizon.  It grew larger and as it loomed in the distance, Gimli too could hear a beautiful melody, sung by the loveliest voice he had ever heard.  He understood not a word, but the song conjured up in his mind a blissful and glorious place: deep, vast caverns with glittering walls, tall columns of crystalline stalactites and stalagmites, carved into beautiful pillars that seemed to shine with a cold radiance.  Gimli could envision smithies deep under the mountains, blazing furnaces and forges, gleaming black behind the dancing fire.  In his ear he heard the singing of anvils and hammers.  He could see in his mind silver and gold being shaped into wonderful things, set with jewels that contained cold, glittering flames.  He was hardly conscious of anything else.  He did not see Legolas standing on the bow of the ship, singing an Elvish song, his hair swept back by wind, his eyes shut, a blissful smile on his lips.  

The song became stronger as they approached the tiny island.  It was the most beautiful one Gimli had ever seen.  There were mountain peaks there, clad in glittering snow.  Gimli could see cliffs, white and beautiful, dotted with openings that promised great, cavernous caves inside.  And on the cliff nearest to the sea, stood a beautiful woman.  Her golden hair was tossed by the wind.  Her face glowed like the moon.  On her white neck she wore a sparkling pendant of sapphire and diamond.  Earrings of gleaming silver were on her ears.  On her wrists there were thick gold bangles, the loveliest Gimli had ever beheld.  Gimli rushed to the bow, climbed the railing and reached out his hand, so eager was he to reach that island.  

Then he fell.

The water closed around him and he saw the island or heard the song no more.  Instead he saw a ring of sharp, jagged rocks, ready to snag and maroon any ship that came near.  He heard horrible, discordant shrieks, meaningless and full of evil mockery.  And Gimli realised what had happened.  Yet he also felt powerless to do anything.  He felt himself sinking into the deep, his hauberk was very heavy and stiff, he felt he could not move. Beyond the curtain of bluish green clear water, he saw Legolas standing on the prow, his hair streaming behind him.  He heard Legolas's voice singing.  And Gimli felt a fire stirred within him.  The grey ship with Legolas in it was going to crash into the treacherous reef.  

Gimli struggled, moving his hands and feet desperately against the weight of his mail shirt.  It was only by the sheer stoutness of his muscle that he managed to burst into the surface.  But when he was again above water and the lovely song once again assailed his ears, for a while Gimli was blinded and nearly paralysed by the beautiful vision of a Dwarven paradise.  But then he remembered Legolas who was about to topple into the deadly reef; and shaking his head violently, Gimli slipped his axe from its holder and swung it fiercely upward.  It buried itself in the ship's timber; and holding on to it, Gimli hauled himself up.   He climbed up to the deck, dripping water all over the polished wood, shaking his head to ward off the lethal song. He tried to walk to the helm and alter the ship's course, but his feet felt heavy, as though he had been tied on to the floor.  

He looked up to the top of the cliff beyond, and saw the woman had turned into a horrible apparition; ashen dark, her eyes a deep, revolting green, and green flame seemed to dance on her head.  She was huge, looming against the sky like a dark cloud.  Gimli felt paralysed by dread.  But he heard the song of Legolas, his voice like clear water washing over the filthy terror that strangled him, and Gimli took up his axe and rushed to the helm, crying, "Baruk Khazad!  Khazad ai menu!"

With a great effort he gripped the wheel and turned it.  He felt the wheel groaning as though it too was loath to leave the glorious but deceiving vision.  The wheel's timber seemed to burn his skin and Gimli cried in pain.  But the ship steered clear of the gaping maw of the deadly reed, just in time.  Gimli kept turning the wheel, trying to bring the ship to sail away from the island.  

       But then he heard Legolas cry out in anger and pain.  The Elf had turned from the prow and looked at Gimli with wrath in his bright Elven eyes.  

       "What are you doing?" he screamed as he leapt to the helm.  "Turn back, turn back this instant!"

       "You do not know what you are doing!" said Gimli.

       "I should never have taken you!  You care not at all for my heart's desire!" shouted Legolas as he tried to wrench the wheel from Gimli's hand.  "Turn the ship back, Gimli, or I shall have to kill you!"

       In a flash, Legolas had taken out his knife and had Gimli not stepped back nimbly enough, he would have been decapitated by the deadly Elven blade.  But as it was, only his beard fell victim to Legolas's knife.  

       Gimli stared briefly at the strands of reddish brown hair on the floor.  The dwarf's eyes glinted in fury.  He swung his axe, saying under his breath, "Never trust an Elf!"

       But the axe missed and its blade was buried in the railing.  Legolas swung his knife again.  Gimli ducked and snatched the Elf's foot from under him and for a split second Legolas lost his balance and fell.  The Elf and the Dwarf wrestled, the terribly beautiful song blaring between them.  The Dwarf's strength and endurance were fully matched by the Elf's agility and swiftness.  

In their struggle something fell out of Gimli's pocket and rolled on the floor.  Gimli glimpsed it and at that moment the fire was extinguished in his heart.  For it was a crystal sphere that he had made in Ithilien to house the three strands of lovely, golden hair of the Lady of Lothlorien, a parting gift bestowed on the Dwarf on the day of his leaving with the Ring-bearer and his companions.  The red screen of anger that blinded him vanished, and Gimli beheld before him the angry face of his Elf friend.  Sadness filled the Dwarf's heart.  He took a deep breath, said, "Please forgive me," and swung his fist viciously to the Elf's head.  The blow was hard and for a second Gimli was certain that he had cracked Legolas's skull.  The Elf's eyes lost their fiery focus and he fell limp onto Gimli's body, his hair splayed on the Dwarf's face.  Gimli rose and gently placed Legolas on the floor.  

The Elf seemed to be in a deep sleep, but not the Elven sleep whereby the eyes were open.  Legolas had shut his eyes and this troubled Gimli deeply.  But at least the Elf was breathing.  Gimli left him to see to the ship's course, but the wind was favouring them, and though the song was still tugging and demanding them to go to the island, Gimli heeded it no more.  He picked up his crystal ball and put it back in his pocket.  Then he returned to Legolas.

The mark of the Dwarf's fist was purplish blue in Legolas's temple, but even then the Elf was moaning softly and stirring.  He blinked twice and stared at Gimli.  

"What happened?" he whispered.  "My head hurts."

"You fell and knocked yourself out," said Gimli.  

"Fell?  Where from?" The Elf rubbed his temple as he sat up.  "Why is your axe in the railing?"

Then he saw the island, growing smaller in the horizon.  The song too he could hear again, but the beauty of it was marred by the pain in his head, and the wonderful imagery it conjured up was blurred and hazy.  Legolas gazed at Gimli.  "What was that, Gimli?"

"It was the Siren, Legolas," said Gimli.  "She sang and beckoned us to the island.  But there is a ring of dangerous reef around it and had we heeded her summons, we would have crashed into those rocks.  Then she would come down from her throne, along with her terrible people, and they would drink up our blood and feast on our flesh.  Remember that story that we heard from one of your kinsfolk in Lothlorien?"

Legolas shivered.  "But you saved us, Gimli," he said, his eyes shone with gratitude.  "She can not touch you."

"She did ensnare me," said Gimli.  "But I proved too strong for her."

Then Legolas smiled, looking at the dripping hair and beard (missing a few strands at the end) and the waterlogged mail shirt.  "And I suppose you swam out into the island and wrestled with her and thus defeated her?" he smiled gently.

The Dwarf turned red, "You should not speak so much.  There is an ugly welt in your head and I say we should have a look at it and see that it has not done your brain any serious damage."

Legolas laughed and with the peals of his Elven laughter, the last remnant of the siren's enchantment was dispelled.


	5. Trip to Avallone 5

It began with a faint murmur that Legolas heard one morning. As they continued to sail west the sound became louder and finally Legolas figured out what it was.  It was the fall at the end of the ocean.  Beyond the chasm would be the isles of the Blessed Realm at last.  

Still a thought haunted him.  He had built the ship himself, with very little knowledge about Elven navigation.  He was worried that his ship might not be able to span the gap that sundered the Undying Lands from Middle Earth, right where the Edain's kingdom had been flung into the bowels of the Earth when its king dared to challenge the Valar and demanded immortality.  Yet, Legolas kept his anxiety to himself and tried to remain calm and cheerful for the sake of his Dwarf friend.  His grey ship went on a straight course towards the watery ravine.

Before long they saw before them, rising to heights immeasurable, a glimmering wall of mist.  It spread out far and wide, to distances that even Legolas's Elven eyes could not perceive.  It was the water thrown up where the two oceans flowed into the rift where the Numenorean kingdom had met its doom.  Only Elven eyes could behold it.  A human would never find it and they would merely sail along it and finally return to where they set out from.  But Legolas saw it and a great joy filled his heart at its sight.

They stopped one last night before they crossed the misty rift.  Under the stars and the waning moon they had dinner and talked of the old days.  Then Gimli slept while Legolas took the first watch.

The night was lovely, and Legolas was full of excitement and gladness.  So he started singing, softly at first and then ever louder.  His voice filled the night, mingled and woven into the roaring of the mighty falls of the two oceans.  The song went up to the starry sky and dove deep into the dark sea.  And it woke something that lurked from time immemorial, a thing forgotten and forsaken, a thing that had dwelled in darkness so absolute, unstirring through the long, wearying ages.  

It was the Moramarth.  Sauron it was who had raised it from the darkness, with the devilry he created in the tower of the old Meneltamar, where altars for Iluvatar had been defiled with human blood so that Melkor shall rise once more.  Sauron called it Moramarth, the Dark Doom, and he had let the foul creature feast on Numenorean ships and their passengers.  Thus he created a rumour that the Elves and Valar had set up traps for humans wishing to visit the Undying Land.  The lost ships, never to return to their harbours again, were the weapons that Sauron used to kindle hatred and fear in the hearts of humans, so that they might rise up against the First-born and the Valar.  Ulmo the Valar that tends to the water had warned Cirdan the Shipwright of this monstrosity so great that the catastrophe that befell Numenor affected it not.  And for ages Cirdan had made sure that no Elven ship tarried in the regions of the sea where Moramath dwelled.  But Legolas the Wood-elf knew nothing of this sea monster, because he left after Cirdan and the rest of the Elf-lords had gone.  And now, unawares, Legolas had awakened the monster from his long, troubled sleep.  His song had pierced the water and its loveliness so hurt Moramarth, that he stirred, awoke, angered and terrible.  He rose from the dark depths of the sea and sought the source of the strange loveliness.  

Legolas saw first the foaming of the water, as though the sea was boiling, about five leagues to the north.  Fear crept into his heart and he woke Gimli.

"We would better go now," he said to the Dwarf.  "Something evil is lurking here."

Gimli was unfurling the sails when the boiling worsened.  The sea turned an angry red, and blazed, as though under the frothing surface, fire raged.  The wind blew harsh and hot.  And then suddenly fire was kindled on the water.  The very water burned, hissed and crackled like a furnace.  The heat was unbearable.  Hot mist swirled from the surface, smarting the eyes, and the air was so parched and hot that the sails began to catch fire.  

Then Moramarth broke the surface.  It was blacker than night, huge and horrible, in the shape of a kraken with eight long tentacles that he flung hither and thither like whips.  A foul reek filled the air and engulfed the ship as the creature swam towards it.  Legolas and Gimli choked in the hot, rank air, as they tried to steer the ship away from the monster.  

But Moramarth caught up with them.  It grasped one mast and wrenched it away, and strong though the timber was, it melted and burned in the monster's tentacle.  Gimli took up his axe and hewed the tip of a tentacle which was crawling towards the cabin.  Legolas was raining the monster with arrows.  Two pierced its eyes and a horrible cry filled the air as the creature writhed in pain.  Angrily it whipped the side of the ship with a tentacle that left an oozing, burning mark on the wood.  Flame-coloured fluid trickled from the tentacle that Gimli hacked, and it burned the deck.  Legolas let go more arrows, and three shot between the flinging tentacles and buried themselves in the soft, unshielded part of the creature's mouth. Gimli ran hither and thither on the deck, cleaving tentacles.  Drops of the flame-coloured liquid splashed onto his mail shirt, hissed and left the metal rings rusted black and crumbling.  

Pained and angry the Moramarth flung his venomous underside at the stern, engulfing it utterly.  Legolas shot arrows three by three and the creature was held back for a while, but the ship's stern was blazing.  The Moramarth slid along the starboard, burning the underside with its slime, and struck a tentacle at Gimli, who was facing portside, nimbly evading a writhing tentacle.  Legolas ran forward quickly, shooting arrows as he did.  The tentacle hung back, but unexpectedly it lashed at Legolas.  The Elf stepped aside in time, and the tentacle smacked empty air.  Just then Gimli managed to hack another tentacle, so that now all eight tentacles were tipless, oozing burning fluid.  

Then Moramarth rose from the water, lifting up five of its tentacles.  Its reddish black mouth opened, its body taut, and suddenly from the darkness of the mouth shot forth dozens of yellowish slender darts.  Legolas leapt and fell on top of Gimli, protecting the Dwarf with his own body.  But he caught two of the darts on his shoulder and as he fell he cried out in pain.  The other darts lodged themselves in the helm, burning the wheels.  Some were stuck in the masts which straightaway burned and crumbled.  Some cleaved the walls of the cabin, scorching them utterly.  The Moramarth closed his enormous mouth on the stern.  The wood burned as it slowly sucked the ship into its stomach.  

Gimli wriggled free from under Legolas. But the burning masts were now littering the deck and he couldn't move far.  He looked at Legolas's face in the glow of the fire.  The Elf looked dazed, his eyes were glazed and empty, and his face very pale.  His breath came in gasps and his skin was cold.  

"Legolas," called Gimli, but the Elf didn't answer.  

The creaking groan of the cabin told Gimli that he had to remove Legolas before the cabin crumbled completely on top of them.  The Dwarf struggled to his feet and dragged Legolas to the bow of the ship.  His eyes veered to the stern, and he saw that the Moramarth had worked its way up a quarter of the ship; the reek of burning wood, and the awful stench of the creature filled the air, and Gimli choked.  He looked down at his friend's face, so pale and ashen, and in the beautiful Elven eyes were fear and pain and sorrow and desolation.  Gimli gripped Legolas's shoulders and pulled him to his breast.  The yellowish, venomous darts had burned the Elf's clothes at the shoulder, and the naked flesh looked livid, purplish red and swollen.  Black streaks of poison spread away from the wound, some reaching the neck, others the arm, still others the chest.  

In anguish Gimli watched his friend dying.  

"Not now, Legolas," he said.  "Not now.  Not when we are so close to the Blessed Realm.  You had promised me the sight of the land of the Valar.  So lovely it is, you said, and you promised that we shall see it together.  Leave me now, you Elf, and you break a promise to this here Dwarf.  Do you wish to be an oath breaker?"

Even as he said it, Gimli knew that all was lost.  The ship creaked as it went slowly down the Moramarth's gullet.

In utter desolation, Gimli held Legolas in his arms and closed his eyes.  

At that moment the bow tilted forward and entered the wall of mist.  The water hissed as it touched and soothed the raging ship.  Gimli could feel the cool hands of the mist easing his hurt and dousing the fires.  He opened his eyes and around him the mist was swirling, the roar of the mighty falls deafening him.  At the other end of the ship the Moramarth snarled in anger as it was wrenched away from the ship and fell to the bottomless abyss, quenched and dissolved by the raging sea.  But the ship sailed forward, spanning the black gap, and arrived at last in the peaceful and golden waters of the Blessed Realm.


	6. Trip to Avallone 6

Legolas became aware of sounds, faint and faraway.  There were sounds of running water, sighing leaves, chirping birds and the voices of Elves speaking softly.  He felt refreshed, but weary.  Slowly he opened his eyes and saw above him a richly carved ceiling.  He was lying on a soft, white bed, in a small chamber that opened into a garden with trees and fountains.

"Am I now in the Halls of Mandos?" he thought aloud.

"You are not," a voice answered.  "You are now in my abode in Avallone, Tol Eressea."

The voice sounded familiar and Legolas started up.  "Mithrandir!" he cried.  

And it was truly Gandalf the White, or Mithrandir as the Elves called him, who sat at the foot of the bed, smiling.  

"So I have come at last to the Blessed Realm," said Legolas happily.  "I am here, among my kindred."

He rose and got out of the bed, walking to the open door and gazed with hungry eyes at the beauty and wonder in the yard and beyond.  Elves there were, fair and numerous, free and joyful.  There were the sounds of singing, beautiful and soothing.  And so happy was Legolas to be finally one with his kindred that he took up the singing, his face beaming and his eyes sparkling.

Then he remembered something.  "How did I come to be here?  I do not remember arriving at the haven," he said.  

And suddenly his memory came flooding in.  The boiling sea, the black terror, the reek of burning… and pain…  He ran a hand on his shoulder.  It had healed but a shadow of pain lingered there, as though despite the mending of his flesh, his mind was still struggling with the wound.  And Gimli…

"But where is Gimli?" he asked urgently.  He started to run to the other end of the room.  There was a long hall, its walls gleaming pearly white and carvings and statues of crystal were numerous there, glinting in the soft afternoon sun.  "Gimli!"

"He is not there," said Gandalf quietly.  "He is still outside the harbour.  In your ship."

"In my ship?" said Legolas in disbelief.  "But my ship is destroyed.  It was burned.  How could you…"

"The shipwrights mended is as best as they could.  Do not worry.  They have taken care of him well, providing him with food and other things that he might need.  But he can not yet enter Avallone."

"But why?" asked Legolas bewildered.  

"He is a dwarf, and whatever had gone on between the both of you, there is still a lot of distrust and hostility between most Elves and Dwarves," said Gandalf gravely.

"But he came with me, through perils and scarcity," said Legolas desperately.  "I took him with me, he is in my care.  I can not desert him.  And I will not!"

"Calm down, Legolas," said Gandalf.  "There is going to be a council to discuss this matter tonight.  We will decide whether Gimli deserves to walk among us, a mortal among the immortals."

"And what if the council decides that he is not worthy of the right?" 

"Then he will become the first dwarf who returns to Middle-earth after setting his eyes on the Undying Land," said Gandalf.  

"Return to Middle-earth?" gasped Legolas.  He was too aghast to speak anymore.  And until night came he sat brooding in guilty silence.


	7. Trip to Avallone 7

Avallone at night was a wonder to behold.  Lights were dancing and sparkling in the streets, and the many fountains seemed to spout gems rather than water.  Laughter and singing filled the streets.  And the trees laced the air with the sweet fragrances of their blossoms.

But in the Hall of Deliberation there was a bitter and palpable silence and tenseness.  Members of the council arrived talking and laughing, but a look at the distraught Elf in the centre seat of the Hall was enough to undo anyone's cheerfulness.  

Legolas felt lost without Gimli in the resplendent Hall.  There were many Elves around, but he felt alone.  But then Gandalf arrived, along with Elrond the Halfelven and some members of his house, including the lord Glorfindel.  Galadriel was there also, with Celeborn her husband, bringing Haldir and some Elves from Lothlorien.  An august-looking Elf arrived and everyone bowed slightly and took their seat.  

"We are gathered here tonight to discuss a matter of grave importance to us all," began the august-looking Elf.

"That is Finarfin," said Gandalf to Legolas in an undertone.  "Lord of the Elves of the Blessed Realm, father of Galadriel."

"A week ago a ship came to Alvallone bringing a grievously wounded Elf and his companion, a very distressed and sorrowful Dwarf.  The Elf is here with us now."

At a sign from him, Gandalf urged Legolas to stand.  He did so and felt every eye turned toward him, some questioningly, others pityingly and some accusingly.  

"Introduce yourself," said Finarfin.  

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, of the Wood-elf, or Grey-elf.  I used to dwell north of Greenwood, which of old was known as Mirkwood," he stopped and looked around.  Everyone was looking at him expectantly.  "Several hundreds years ago my father sent me to Imladris to tell the council of the escape of the creature Gollum.  There I was assigned to accompany the Ring-bearer in his quest to destroy The One Ring of Power, so that the Dark Lord Sauron could not get his hand on The Ring and thus regain his terrible control over Middle-earth."

Several heads turned and scattered whisperings occurred.  

"During the journey I fostered close friendship with the Dwarf Gimli son of Gloin.  After the Dark Lord was vanquished, our bond was strengthened and together we did many wondrous works in Gondor, the realm of mankind.  But I can not entirely free myself from The Call of the Undying Land; so after the death of King Elessar, Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur, I built myself a ship and planned to sail here.  I took Gimli with me, because he is very dear to me and I wish never to be separated from him.  Furthermore, he greatly desires to meet again the Lady Galadriel, whom he met in the woods of Lothlorien on our setting out in the journey to destroy The Ring of Power."

Several of the Elves looked at Galadriel who sat silently beside Celeborn.  

"We passed many great perils together," continued Legolas, his voice faltering.  "Storms, enchantments, monsters.  But Gimli stood by me and we fought alongside each other.  More than before I now consider him more than a friend, but kin."

Then he sat down.

Finarfin was silent for several moments.  Then he spoke, "That was the tale of Legolas Greenleaf, of whose companion was the Dwarf in question.  Now I want Eleinion, chief of havens of Alvallone, to tell his."

An elf in a sparkling white robe rose and addressed the council, "About a week ago my scout reported a ship coming out of the wall of mist to the east.  But it was in a dreadful condition, having been for the most part burned and leaking.  In it we found a dwarf in a pitiful condition. His mail shirt seemed to have been burned by something that rusted and crumbled the metal and his hair and beard was scorched.  He was also very distraught and kept urging us to make haste and help his friend.  We found Master Legolas Greenleaf in the ship, with injuries so grave that at first our hearts failed us and we thought that he had reached the Realm too late and his spirit had indeed gone to the Halls of Mandos.

"But as we moved him to our ship, the dwarf said to him, 'Behold, Legolas!  The fair city of Alavallone!  We have arrived!  Behold, Legolas!  Here are your kindred to help you!' and the Elf stirred and we were gladdened because we had not lost him yet.  We took him hastily here and Elrond the loremaster and chief healer took care of Master Legolas, and very soon we were rejoiced to hear that he was recuperating

"But we do not know yet what to do with the dwarf.  Of course we succoured him as best as we could, giving him food, beddings and medicines, and repaired the ship he came here in.  In my opinion he is most gracious and courteous and he is clearly worried about Master Legolas's condition.  But we are told not to let him into the city, awaiting the decision of this council."

The haven master concluded his explanation with a nod, and sat down.  Legolas was grateful to know that his friend was being well taken care of.  But he still felt that the council was groundless, because he felt that without a doubt Gimli richly deserved to be walking amongst the Elves.

An Elf with gloriously radiating face, a Vanyar of high rank, began to speak, "The ban against the Dwarf's arriving in the city is due to many reasons.  Firstly, it is a highly rare occasion that a mortal is allowed to walk among us.  For instance, we have permitted the Periannaths who had helped turn the course of history and made it possible for us to live in relative peace and prosperity.  But we can not simply thus allow anyone who helped in the journey to destroy Sauron to tarry among us.  Especially dwarves whom from bitter and painful experience, are to be trusted and befriended only with the highest degree of caution."

Another Elf spoke, "I agree.  We can not dismiss the Dwarves' treachery upon the Elves of Doriath."

Legolas stood up, "I am not in this council to ask for the acceptance of the whole race of Dwarves into the Blessed Realm.  I am merely speaking on behalf of Gimli, whom I considered to be brave and loyal and kind of heart."

"Of that I should agree," said Galadriel quietly.  "Gimli son of Gloin had changed my opinion of Dwarves long ago and he won my trust and friendship ever since."

"Yet we can not simply rule out the fact that dwarves are mortals and as such they do not belong among us," countered another Elf.  "We should not lightly forget those of mankind who were jealous of our immortality and rose in anger against us."

"They were under the influence of that sweet-talking Sauron then, and Sauron has vanished now," commented Gandalf.

"Nevertheless," argued the other Elf, "the possibility for such envy is ever present and we can not blind our eyes to it.  Much has happened that we sorely regret and lament because of our forgetfulness.  We must not fall to the  same pit twice."

On and on they argued.  Finally Legolas excused himself and left the council, wearied and despondent.  He returned to Gandalf's house but could not rest.  Instead he walked up to the upper story and stared into the waters beyond the haven, glinting the reflection of the stars.  

Under him, spread out to the horizons on all sides, Avallone and the rest of fair Tol Eressea lay half asleep in a soft and fragrant breeze.  Beautiful it was, and peaceful and Legolas loathed the thought of ever having to leave again.  But he braced himself and reminded himself of the promise he made to Gimli.

"If they turn you away, I shall leave them and go with you.  I shall not suffer you to be sundered from me."

It broke his heart to have come after so much hardship upon the land he dreamt of for many, many years.  But he valued more the bond of friendship he had with Gimli, and he knew his choice was made.

He knew not how long he stood gazing at the dark waters afar.  But presently he could hear footsteps coming into the house.  Reluctantly he went down and walked to the pearly hall.  He was sure the council had decided and Gandalf had come to give him the dreadful news.  He collected his bow and quiver and his twin Elven blades and strode with head bent to the front of the building.

Elven houses have no doors.  Someone was outside the opening, his shadow stretched and swayed as the candles outside danced in the wind.  Legolas was too troubled to care much about the strange shape of the shadow.  

He was wholly unprepared to see Gimli, standing by the door, wreathed in a smile and glowing eyes, beside Gandalf who also wore the same kind of mischievous, satisfied smile.

"Why…?" said Legolas, but he could speak no more.

"Yes, Master Elf," said Gimli.  "You still have a promise to keep and I am here to ask for it."

Then Legolas cried in joy and ran forward to hug Gimli, but the Dwarf stepped back in a mock exaggeration of dignity.

"Pray Master Legolas, this is a valuable beard I have here.  I do not wish it to be tangled."

They both laughed and the trees and flowers of Tol Eressea, fair, peaceful Tol Eressea wove the notes of their laughter into songs that lingered for eternity.  

**The End**


End file.
